


In The Land of Gods and Monsters

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [47]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angel Jughead, Angst, Blasphemy, Demon Betty, Devil Betty, Dominant Betty, F/M, Happy Ending, One Shot, Pain, Submissive Jughead, bad betty - Freeform, bughead - Freeform, good jughead, i suppose ever so slightly mildly dubious consent but jughead wants it to happen really, just watch out, sacrilegious, temptress betty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 10:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16406648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: Jughead is an Angel who keeps getting tempted.





	In The Land of Gods and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy!

Betty dragged a long red fingernail lightly over the back of Jughead's shoulders. 

He resisted the urge to shudder as goosebumps rippled across his skin, though he was certain he trembled all the same. He could feel the heat radiating off of her, and fought the temptation to lean back and become engulfed in it. He stayed where he was; hands clasped in prayer and resolutely not opening his eyes. 

He tried to keep his focus on the words of divinity, but he could hear her heels click across the stones as she circled him slowly. He could hear the rustling of her dress as the fabric stretched over her skin, and he could hear her mournful sighing. Still. He did not open his eyes, and he leaned into the caress of the sea breeze as he continued his prayer atop the cliffside. The breeze carried a hint of salt and brine, a relief from the overwhelming scent of sulphur exuding from Betty. It was enough to clear his faculties and allow him to hold steadfast to his faith and role. 

Betty seemed to notice, for she sighed. Even louder this time. And stopped her circling to stand behind him. He didn't move. She knelt slowly, and pressed her chest to his back. The heat of her was scorching and the swell of her breasts made him grit his teeth as his concentration was lost. She hooked her chin over his shoulder and hissed lovingly into his ear: "Are you  _really_ going to ignore me, Juggie?" She crooned, devastatingly appealing. Her hands wound around his waist and he did shudder then; hard. Her teeth grazed his ear and he could smell smoke and ash and a bitter sweetness he couldn't place. 

Just as her hand started to travel slightly lower, he yanked out of her grip and over the prayer rock. His white wings fluttered once; holding him steady over the cliff edge and he saw her for the first time that morning. Still as beautiful as ever. Her wings; silhouetted shadows of flames hovered behind her, and her blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She was scantily dressed, as usual, this time in a figure hugging blue dress that barely covered her thighs and a long, see-through wrap that caught in the fire of her aura. Her blue eyes sparkled and she smirked at him. He wanted to laugh. There she was now, the devil leaning across the prayer rock, and he could still feel the trail of fire she'd left across his skin. "Betty." He said firmly, trying to keep his voice level. "What are you doing here?" 

She mock-pouted, dragging her fingertips lightly across the boulder. "I thought I'd come and see you. You haven't visited me in a while." 

He clenched his jaw, turning his gaze skyward. The clouds moved slowly overhead. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again. I told you to forget it and that I made a mistake." He said slowly, his tone controlled. "It can't happen again." 

She stood up and crossed her arms; looking for all the world unimpressed. "You can land, you know," she remarked sarcastically. "I'm not going to drag you down to hell, you don't have to hover there like a mayfly." 

Dubiously, he landed right on the precipice, but she made no move towards him, so he took a few steps into safer territory. She looked...lost, somehow. And his heart thumped guiltily. He opened his mouth to speak and perhaps offer her some comfort, but she spoke before he could. 

"How long have we known each other, Juggie?" 

He wished she wouldn't call him that. He let out a long breath. "A very long time." He conceded. 

"And don't we have a good time together?" 

Images and memories flashed before his eyes. Of her lips on his and his hands in her hair. His leg between her thighs and her hands across his chest- the way she'd scratch him ever so lightly and the way he'd gasp into the hollow of her neck as she moaned his name. He swallowed hard against the onslaught and glared at her. It wasn't fair, he thought dimly. For her to look the perfect picture of seduction. For him to be so attracted to her. No wonder she'd been banished from heaven. She was corrupting. She would ruin him. "No." He lied. "We don't." 

Her plump red lips parted in surprise, and she rose to her feet. The moss and greenery on the rocks behind her shrivelled up and died at the heat of her wings; instantly turning a dark, dry brown and floating to the floor. "Well," she drawled, eyes cold, "that's not very nice. I seem to remember you calling out my name-"

"Stop."

"-saying how much you  _adored_ me and-"

"Betty, please-"

"-how you'd beg me. How desperately you wanted to touch me," she moaned and he shook his head vehemently against the truth of it all.  Her smile was knowing and taunting, and she sat down atop the prayer rock; stretching her long legs out in front of her. It dragged her dress upwards and try as he might to keep his eyes away from the freshly exposed skin, he could not. "You could have me here," she whispered, running her hand across the smooth granite. He choked loudly at the suggestion. The sheer sacrilegiousness and lack of morales stunning his system though he should have long learnt not to be surprised. "Or I could be on top, if you'd prefer." She winked at him, "I know how you love it when I take control." 

Sweat was beginning to bud at his temples and he shook his head again but...but didn't leave. He could have. Could have flown away. She wouldn't have followed. But he couldn't look away from her. Her dark blue eyes and her smooth, milky skin. She probably wasn't wearing _anything_ under that dress. His resolve wavered ever so slightly, before strengthening again. She would destroy him like she had destroyed others. Lure them into her and then when they weren't paying attention, or when their guard was down, she'd snap the light right out of their haloes and kill them. That was what she did. She'd done it to plenty of others, and he was just the next in line. Her knowing smirk made humiliation and shame rush through him. She was right. He  _did_ like it when she took control. She was beautiful in a way that nothing else was. But he was an angel, and he was strong. 

"Goodbye, Betty," he murmured, turning away. 

A smokey shadow grasped his wrist gently. He paused and looked down at it, following the trail to Betty who was now only perched upon the rock; gazing at him almost desperately. She looked surprised. Good, he thought. "Don't go," she urged, her confident veneer diminished. "Come on, Jug, it's always just been you and me-"

"And the countless others you've killed?" He snapped, yanking his hand away. "Don't treat me like I'm any different from them, Betty. You're just upset that this time, it won't end with another soul in your river. I'm done." 

She was in front of him in an instant- the intense red flames of her wings almost burning his eyes with their brightness. She placed herself between him and the ocean; floating there almost serenely above the sea, and she reached out her hand to trace the lines of his face. It was too easy to lean into the touch, it was so familiar and soft. "You are different," she insisted warmly, and he closed his eyes to ward off any emotions. She was lying. She always lied. "You  _are_ different," she tried again, more insistent. He could feel tears stinging behind his eyelids. She was such a good temptress. Her fingers traced his jaw, and then over his eyebrows and then outlined his lips. "I love you." 

His heart ached.

Her fingers were replaced by her lips. Feather soft as she kissed up his jaw, then down his face. Her hands wound into his hair and tightened just the way he liked. He opened his eyes. She was a few millimetres away, and he could see his own green reflected in her blue. It mixed confusedly within her irises and he wasn't sure where he ended and she began. His hands were tight on her waist and he wondered when they'd even moved there. She moved forward, pressing them together in all the right-wrong ways and angled her head up. "I love you." She repeated earnestly, and his resolved collapsed. 

With tears running down his cheeks; he kissed her. 

Somehow, they did end up on the prayer rock. Somehow, she was above him, controlling and dominant in the way that got him so wound up it was no wonder it was forbidden. Suddenly his hands were grasping desperately at the ties of her dress and he was lavishing her sulphur skin. 

When she finally took her inside him; rolling her hips down, he cried out in rapturous relief and awe. How could he have denied himself this? Why had he not given in so many times before? It was unlike anything he'd ever felt- anything he thought he  _could_ ever feel. He gazed up at her; body frantic and not sure how to proceed and she looked down at him, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him softly. "That's good," she crooned, as he wrapped his arms around her back; keeping them close together and burying his face in her breast. "That's so good," she continued, her voice breathless and addictive. She tugged on his hair harder and harder- scratching at his scalp and thrusting down onto him. 

He could see fire every time he closed his eyes. 

When he came- it was a tidal wave of energy rushing through him. A different type of bliss, one not yet experienced. 

And then suddenly-

he couldn't breathe. 

Choking on the lack of air, he shoved her off of him, and fell to his hands and knees on the floor. His heart was racing and try as he might, he couldn't draw any oxygen in. In a blind panic he started scrabbling at his throat, before looking up to see Betty holding his halo in her hands. He reached up towards it but missed by a mile and shuddered.

He collapsed onto his side, mouth open but convulsing around nothing. She was flushed pink all over; still naked and gorgeous, as she held the silver ring in her hands. He clawed at the ground desperately; gazing at her as silent sobs wracked his body. 

She snapped the halo over her knee and a jolt of pain so strong it physically sent him reeling towards the edge of the cliff face yanked through him. It was like being stabbed or impaled, and he managed to roll over onto his side so he could see the deep, blue ocean beneath. It was like Betty's eyes. Agony and betrayal weaved around him. His head was starting to ache and his body was seizing. With his remaining energy, he dragged himself slightly over the edge so the top of his body was hanging precariously off of it. He could do it. He could push himself off and die and end this pain. 

He kicked at the ground and felt himself began to tip when Betty grabbed his ankle and yanked him back. 

He wanted to scream but no noise came out. His vision was beginning to blur and he stared up at her; feeling stupid and deserving of his fate. 

She still held the two pieces of his halo in her hands, before she tipped one half upside down. The silver liquid trickled onto the floor and dissolved into nothing, and she brought the now empty half to her wings. A fiery red liquid trickled into that half and with a grand movement- she brought the two halves together before Jughead could even try to attempt to understand what she was doing. 

His breathing came back with a sudden jerk, and another slice of pain tore its way through his body. She knelt over him, and held the halo over his face. His aura yanked out for it, and placed it back into position but he still writhed. She held him down; one hand strong on his chest. 

"W-what's happening?" He hissed in pain; voice hoarse and legs spasming. 

She looked a little concerned, but mostly proud. Her eyes were above his head; on the halo. "Half angel, half demon," she said, more to herself than him. "I haven't done a bad job at all. You're the first of your kind, Juggie." 

An icy fire was beginning to course through his veins and he whimpered at the pain. "W-why?" 

She frowned, finally meeting his eyes. "Because you're special. And different. And I love you." 

The pain was finally beginning to ebb away as his body reached a new equilibrium. He was covered with sweat and panting. Very very slowly, he sat up and looked at his wings. On the left, the soft whiteness he'd had since creation, on the right, an inky, smoky blackness. He stared at Betty's flaming red ones, and then back at his own mismatching ones. Sorrow and fear beat in his heart. "Why not just kill me?" He nearly wept, struggling to his feet. Betty helped him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder once he was upright. 

"I love you." She repeated, curling one hand around the nape of his neck as she pulled him down towards her. "I could have killed you, or made you a demon, but I didn't want to do that. So look at you, half angel, half demon. Half god's. Half mine. You're welcome." 

He stared at her in wonder, before leaning down to kiss her hard on the mouth. It was vicious and biting and he felt something tremendously wicked thrum in his blood that was satisfying in a way he had never considered before. A part of him, smaller now, still resisted on some base level, yearning him not to give into temptation. But it didn't matter, did it? He wasn't an angel to be corrupted, nor a demon to be saved. 

He was Betty's. 

"Come on," she grinned, taking his hand and leading him over the cliff-edge, "I have so much to show you." 

After a moment, he followed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment lovelies! x


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